If you got an error trying to read my blahg yesterday, I’ll just blame it on Froooggy. I think he waited until I was asleep, grabbed my blahg and took her off on a drunken spree. Londry detergent with a chaser of Listerine are his go-to intoxicants. By the time I woke up, my blahg was back, if a little bleary-eyed and there was loud snoring coming from the londry basket where Frooog was sleeping it off in the dirty londry.

I found myself in the driveway at 6:30 AM dumping the contents of the recycle bin out. Why? Because I still cannot find the missing fob. There was only an infinitesimal chance it could be in the recycle cart but I had to be 100% sure. I don’t need any man-‘splainin’ to tell me that fobs are expensive. I’ll spare you the details of my system for handling recyclables and its proximity to the key basket. The fob wasn’t in the recycle cart, which is now out at the curb for tomorrow’s pickup.

I couldn’t get into the Lyme Lounge to look because it is locked and I could not find a key that opened it. Turns out the key is in a really odd location. If it’s a location I have once known about, I have long forgotten. Anyway, the key fob saga continues. It’s kinda like the time (long ago) when, for WEEKS, I could hear a smoke alarm beeping somewhere. It was faint and not one of the ones we were relying on. Eventually, we found one from our co-op nursery school buried in the front closet. You know the one. It’s where all the tools and car stuff and vacuum cleaners are stored🐽🐽🐽

A happily divorced friend is dealing with lawn services, etc., and was kvetching a bit that it might be nice to have a husband if only to deal with that kind of stuff. She is totally capable but it’s hard to manage a house single-handedly and I’m sure she gets tired of doing it all herself, including dealing with multiple contractors. I laughed like crazy and shut that talk down pretty quickly by providing a LOVERLY vision of meeeee in my driveway at 6:30 AM sifting through the contents of an upturned recycle cart. Because of something my beloved husband did, inadvertent as it was.

No fob but at least it wasn’t in the recycle. I wasn’t worried about the garbage cart because it was EMPTY until I put two half-full kitchen bags in it. All carts are down at the curb. G’night. KW

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